Expectations vs Reality
by LadyDivine91
Summary: For their fifth anniversary, Blaine has something special planned. But, unfortunately, expectations don't always equal reality, especially when there's physical exertion involved. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


**Written for the Klaine Advent prompt "tacky", I just forgot to post it xD**

"I'm sorry!" Kurt apologizes before he's even through the door of their loft. He actually starts yelling it from quite a ways down the hall, knowing Blaine's waiting for him, knowing that he'll hear. Kurt feels awful. He had no intention whatsoever of being late for dinner, especially not tonight. But it couldn't be helped. Once Isabelle gets it into her head that she's on the verge of a fashion revelation, few things can slow her down.

Though, in this instance, Kurt should have insisted. He should have done more than just drop hints. She would have understood … maybe.

"I completely … didn't … mean …" Kurt continues, struggling with the sticky lock. Blaine doesn't come to the door to help. Kurt prays that isn't a bad sign "… to be … late on our … anniversary." The key turns in the lock, the sliding door shoots open, and Kurt stumbles inside. He expects to see a perfectly laid out dinner on the kitchen table and a grumpy Blaine sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, not even looking at him. That's how it might end up if their roles were reversed.

And Kurt's half right. The dinner's there, looking Pinterest perfect, with candles lit and a vase of fresh flowers in the center. But Blaine isn't sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, ready to ignore Kurt for the rest of the evening. He's sitting on the area rug in the living room, hair shower wet, barefoot, wearing soft blue sweat pants and a white t-shirt. He has a bowler hat in his hands, and a wicked smile on his face.

"Well, well, well." Kurt locks the sliding door. He puts down his coat and his bag, and walks over to his husband. Blaine looks slyer with every step that Kurt takes in his direction. "What is this?"

"Well, after your sixth _Leaving in fifteen minutes_ text, I had a feeling you were going to be late." Blaine starts with that, and his smile doesn't slip, but Kurt can hear the disappointment in his voice. "We haven't really had much in the way of alone time together, so I thought we might have a little fun tonight."

"What kind of fun?" Kurt toes off his shoes and sits across from Blaine, the guilt of the moment helping him overlook what sitting on the dusty floor must be doing to his slacks.

"Inside this hat," Blaine says, lifting the upside-down bowler and swirling it around, "written on tiny slips of paper, are 28 things that you and I can do to one another. I got them off the Men's Health website. Some of them are on the sweet and tame side …"

"And the others?"

Blaine doesn't answer. He simply reaches behind his back and pulls out a pair of handcuffs. Kurt looks at them, eyes wide, his neglected body tingling. They make love almost every night, but it's been a while since they've taken the time to properly worship one another.

"We've got _all_ night," Blaine adds, reminding Kurt that they'd both requested the next day off of work. They'd wanted to spend their first official day celebrating five years newlywed where the milestone could be properly appreciated – in bed, without any interruptions.

Apparently, that starts now.

"Well" – Kurt reaches for the hat, digging in to the nest of folder papers, hoping to choose whichever one goes with that set of handcuffs – "let the games begin."

 _Two hours later …_

"It's … it's your turn," Blaine pants, passing the hat over to Kurt. Kurt reaches out for it, fingers stretching to touch the brim, but then he drops his arm, his hand coming to rest on Blaine's stomach. Kurt rolls his head left and right.

"I love you, Blaine," Kurt says. "I love every gorgeous inch of you. But if I have to do another sexual thing with you, I think I'm going to scream – no offense."

Blaine snorts, too exhausted to actually laugh. "None taken. I feel the same way."

"How many slips of paper did we go through?" Kurt asks. He tries to mentally count everything they've done so far. The first blowjob had been exciting. The rimming Blaine gave him in return exhilarating. The third slip of paper, commanding them to have sex reverse cowgirl, on par with where their usual sex-capades would lead. But as the suggestions on the papers became more kinky, they also became more energy consuming. The last three slips were met with fear and groaning as opposed to grins and moaning.

"Fourteen, I think," Blaine answers, picking through the discarded remains. "We were halfway there."

"God! Who knew sex could be so tiring?"

"Obviously not us. Maybe we've been doing it wrong?"

"Ridiculous," Kurt says. "We're pros." He tries to flash his husband a seductive smile, maybe a wink, but neither is happening. "So what do we do now? You know, that doesn't require moving?"

"That rules out showering," Blaine points out. He presses his thumb and index fingers together, then pulls them apart, the tacky skin in between, coated in layer upon layer of drying lube, taking a second to separate. "Sleep?"

"We're not even in bed," Kurt complains. "We don't have a pillow, or blankets. And we're covered in yuck."

"Well, then, we're going to have to get up. And seeing as you're lying on top of me, that means you go first."

Kurt lies quietly, thinking over the alternatives.

"Goodnight, Blaine."

Blaine chuckles lightly, his stomach jostling Kurt's head, which refuses to be removed. Blaine reaches a shaky arm to his right and manages to grab a throw off the couch. He tosses it over his and Kurt's body without much skill since he doesn't have much strength left. He doesn't think it covers them entirely, but that doesn't seem to matter to Kurt. He's already asleep.

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine whispers. "Happy anniversary."


End file.
